


Or Shall We Have Tea First?

by Grunky



Category: Elder Scrolls
Genre: .... or are they?, Alternate Universe, Background Relationships, Dreams, Gen, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:30:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28804335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grunky/pseuds/Grunky
Summary: Evelyn spends some time in wondrous realm, chatting with a rather mundane individual over tea and sweets. Until she is rudely awoken of course.
Relationships: Mathieu Bellamont/Hero of Kvatch | Champion of Cyrodiil
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	Or Shall We Have Tea First?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Shealyne (Evelyn's mother) owned by Joelcoxriley. I don't own Elder Scrolls - duh.
> 
> Not much to say here. This abounded when I was thinking of ways to make this character of mine more interesting - and make more use of her connections as a pint-sized Demiprince. Plus Haskill needs more love. Not sure how accurate his character is here, I was just going off of vague memory. Hope you enjoy!

When Evelyn awoke, she found herself in a different world.

Myriad of colors swam before her, vibrancy blinding after an hour in gloom; the comforting feel of her bed was still present, but as she soon discovered when her eyes adjusted to the spinning shapes and movement, the girl was drifting through the sky like a leaf to the wind. The swirling rainbow around her was actually a cloud of butterflies. They carried her with coordinated effort, thousands of tiny legs grasping her dress, colored wings beating frantically.

Evelyn couldn’t move. She could barely see beyond the wings. The girl felt herself being seated, hands dropping onto the arms of a chair. The butterflies released her. Their colors parted like a curtain as they dispersed. _Evaporated._ Evelyn watched after them with confusion, then took a gander at the vibrant meadow she found herself sitting in. The strange flowers. The mushroom-trees twisting and touching the sky.

“Good day, Miss Bellamont.”

The girl turned her head. Sitting adjacent to her at a small yet laden dining table was a breton man. He was quite old judging by the balding head, and his dour expression clashed with the whimsical court attire he wore. He held a tea cup and plate, watching Evelyn closely. His long face did not change even when Evelyn’s own cracked with a grin.

“Haskill! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“You may have to define ‘forever’; these planes don’t quite abide by Akatosh’s laws.” Haskill replied. Tone as bored as ever. He took a slow sip of his tea. “Nevertheless, I am pleased to be in your company again, as well.”

Evelyn flushed. “Oh, right - it’s nice to see you again. I honestly didn’t think I’d have another dream of this place again…”

Lips creasing into a slightly tighter frown, Haskill shook his head. “My duties hold priority over any personal ventures, especially with my Lord’s… _temporary_ absence. A Chamberlain hardly has time to hold tea parties with an adolescent mortal girl. Difficult to find a time where such an activity wouldn’t be wholly unnecessary.”

“Well, thanks for spending that free time with me, my personal imaginary friend.” Evelyn rolled her eyes - there was a hint of snark there, but not out of maliciousness. She ogled down at the table. “And a tea party, this time, too! I’ve missed them a lot. Have you?”

Haskill nodded, “Indeed, milady. Help yourself. The baked goods are courtesy of Aurelia Varn in Bliss - that means no human toes in them this time. For better or worse.”

“Great! Thank you!”

…. But what to pick first? The small dining table was laden with platters piled high with baked goods. Scones, rolls, puff pastries, muffins - plus others she didn’t even know the name to! It was _amazing_.

So Evelyn decided to sample one of everything, mounding them onto the empty plate in front of her before pouring herself some tea. It didn’t matter, did it? It wasn’t like she was going to gain weight again, here. It wasn’t like Haskill was going to judge or make fun of her for eating too much…..

It sure tasted as good as if she were _really_ eating it, though! Yet so good - she knew it was a dream. As she expected from her imagination.

At least when Haskill decided to bring the treats from the Bliss baker. That woman - whoever she was, Evelyn’s never met her despite repeated pleas - was _inspiring_. She didn’t know what the Crucible baker’s fascination was with using human body parts as an ingredient. Ewww…..

Haskill continued watching her over the rim of his his cup; had Evelyn not been so intent on the food, she could have seen the dimmest flicker of humor in his eyes.

“I presume it’s enjoyable? Or have your parents simply been starving you?” He asked.

“ _Yesh._ ” Blurted the girl between a bite of muffin, “I mean - yes, it’s _amazing_. Like usual. My parents don’t starve me or anything but… honestly… this stuff can be better than what Mother makes, a lot of the time.”

That made her flush again. It didn’t feel nice to talk even remotely ill of her mother’s skill. The woman has been feeding the girl her whole life, after all. She chose to change the subject. Regaining her manners, she wiped a few crumbs from her face with a napkin before speaking, “But it’s a shame you can’t do this more, Haskill. Doing your own things you like to do, I mean. I think it’s quite rude of your 'Lord’ to leave you managing this land for so long.”

“Ah… if my Lord were around, I would advise you to watch your tongue, lest you wish to fall from the sky in a decisively more deadly way.” Replied Haskill. He drank the rest of his tea - perhaps to hide the subtle tug of an appreciative smile - then set it down.

“Oh, I bet I’d be in for dozens of insane punishments from what you’ve told me. You know - if your Lord was actually here for once.”

“My Lord has been known to leave on spontaneous vacations of indeterminable length before, Miss Bellamont. And whenever that may happen, I must be ready to oversee the realm in substitute. I live to serve; there should be no questioning of if 'Haskill needs a vacation’, or 'Haskill should get more personal time as a reward for his gratifying service’. These small chats are all I can truly afford - and even then are ultimately going against my duty.”

Evelyn, listening intently as she gorged, grunted. “Hrmph! That’s not right.” She jabbed a cream cone in Haskill’s direction, “If I were Lord, I would give you lots of free time. What’s so bad about talking to me, anyway?”

“I was not expressly permitted to shepard over you.” Droned Haskill. He took the cream cone she still held out, seemingly in offering. “Nor to intrude upon your mind whilst you slept. Perhaps my Lord does not even know I am capable of this power, but it is not as if I’m using it to work against the Mad God….”

Taking an experimental bite of the treat, he looked at her thoughtfully. “… No, it is quite the opposite.”

“ _Evelyn!_ ”

Her name tore through the sky like thunder. The mushroom trees bowed in its wake, crumpling as the world came falling down. Haskill disappeared; the food and silverware evaporated much like the butterflies earlier, the table compressing and shrinking. Darkness came encroaching from all sides, swallowing the vibrant expanse. Evelyn’s head spun around frantically - she tried to get up but her chair shrunk out of existence until she found herself falling backwards, into the darkness -

Crashing back into her bed.

Having adjusted to such saturated colors, the shaft of light filtering through her curtains didn’t blind her in the gloom of her room. Evelyn sat up yawning.

“Evelyn!” The voice - her mother’s voice - repeated. It was much softer in tone this time, somehow. “Breakfast is ready.”

“… Yes, Mother…. give me a few minutes…”

A moment’s pause. “Be swift about it, yes? Lest it grow cold.”

Listening as her mother’s footsteps faded down the stairs, the girl threw her blanket aside. She couldn’t help the startling disappointment that washed over her.

_‘What a nice dream. I wonder how long it’ll be 'til I have another one like it, again…’_

Only when she slipped out of her nightgown and into proper dress did she open the curtains to face the day. Cheydinhal was just coming alive with activity. The sky was clear; foliage lush in midsummer dawn, the pond behind the chapel sparkling deep blue. A passing thought told her it couldn’t compare to the extravagance of her dreams.

After ensuring her light brown hair was tamed and gathered into a messy bun (no time to fuss over it and any makeup yet, but she was getting to it _ASAP_ afterwards), Evelyn followed the scent of a homecooked meal down the stairs. Her mother shifted her attention at her daughter’s emergence.

“Splendid. She did not die. She was only too busy making sure she impressed the noble court.” She said. Her sole eye ran over Evelyn.

“I just combed and put on clothes….” Evelyn countered, sinking into her seat at the table. A less lavish chair. A less laden table. There she met father’s gaze, head lifted from the sheet of parchment he’d been reading - Black Horse Courier, or something. She noticed he hadn’t taken such time as she had. His matching hair knotty and spilling over his shoulders, some locks nearly touching his plate.

…. Maybe _she_ shouldn’t care as much first thing in the morning?…. nah.

Evelyn also noticed his soft smile, so ceaseless whenever she was around, faded into a look of concern, brows knitted. “… Did you get enough rest, princess?”

… What? “Uh, yeah? Why?” Because she slept in later than usual?

It was her mother’s turn to comment, eye sharpening. “You look as if you haven’t slept a wink, with those rings under your eyes. And you can barely keep them open, it seems.”

“Huh? Really?” She asked.

Her father frowned, “Yes, I would know that look well…”

Evelyn reached up to rub her eyes, as if she could see what they were talking about that way. Like Haskill earlier, her parents had ceased their movements to await her response. She had to think - quick.

“I, well - it was kinda hard to fall asleep, yeah. I had a nightmare again. Of the abandoned house, and the ghosts…”

For a tense moment she thought they wouldn’t accept her fib. Mathieu and Shealyne exchanged glances, as if silently conversing. Then Evelyn’s father scowled as he recalled the memory. He grumbled something under his breath that she vaguely discerned. “I fucking despise those kids…. and those _ghosts_ …”

Shealyne only sighed. “If you need to, Eve, you can try and catch some sleep later today.”

“Yes. And you can talk to us if the nightmares are still bothering you. You know that.”

Evelyn smiled. “Thank you, Mother, Father.”

Perhaps she could have told them the truth. The girl didn’t understand how it looked like she didn’t sleep, when she’d been having a most undisturbed, pleasant dream. It wasn’t a question that lasted, as she cut into her food; it was all just her imagination. It wasn’t terribly important to talk about.

Besides, she was close to her parents. Little to nothing was kept entirely to herself.

 _‘Would it really hurt that much,’_ Evelyn thought, licking her lips and detecting the lingering taste of that blueberry scone she’d had before diving in, _‘To keep those little dreams a secret?’_


End file.
